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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26916481">Hurts Like Hell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enderwoah/pseuds/Enderwoah'>Enderwoah</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Based on a song, But President Wilbur is Just No Bueno, Character ≠ Real Person, Gen, Hallucinations, Justification for Being Awful, Regret, Song Lyrics, Song fic, Sorry Not Sorry, Speaking Truth Here, Wilbur Soot is Insane, Wilbur Soot is Not A Good President, Wilbur Soot is a Bad Father, Wilbur is Awesome, YEAH I SAID IT, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:06:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,219</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26916481</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enderwoah/pseuds/Enderwoah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilbur looks back on some of the people closest to them.</p><p>And realizes that he's above them all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Niki | Nihachu/Wilbur Soot, Niki | Nihachu/Wilbur Soot (Implied)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>172</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hurts Like Hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>TW:/CW Cursing, Wilbur showing the fact that he’s a little bit manipulative. Just a little. (This is an understatement.) I don’t know the terminology for this -- I guess it could be compared to being a White Knight, almost? Wanting people to be dependent on you. Wilbur is a simp.<br/>Also, caps in the note at the end. I'm excited.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>~~~</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>Pogtopia feels emptier than usual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even when Tommy and Techno are out doing whatever they do and Wilbur is alone there, there’s always a bit of lingering warmth, a sort of positive energy that stays behind. Perhaps it originates from knowing that so many people are on your side and are willing to fight with you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To fight </span>
  <em>
    <span>for </span>
  </em>
  <span>you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ravine is freezing tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy is gone, probably off to ring all the sirens about Wilbur’s plan to Tubbo like he always does, and Techno is off to God-knows-where. Leaving Wilbur completely alone, and completely submerged in his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts, which seem to be stuck to the people that will be present at the festival and what he’s going to do to them. Which, mind you, he doesn’t feel bad about. Not at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How could he feel bad about it when they’ve been stabbing in the back ever since he was exiled? Hell, ever since he became president?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur paces around, subconsciously staying on the wooden Prime Path and turning around on his heel when he reaches the sign. He wrings his hands in front of him as he gazes into the choking campfire that was placed in the middle of Pogtopia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sees Fundy.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I loved…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur has to stifle a laugh. Fundy! Fundy, Fundy used to be his boy, Fundy, who he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so proud of</span>
  </em>
  <span> after the war ended, who he couldn’t look at without swelling up with pride in its most raw, natural form. Fundy, with his little redstone contraptions and his crayon suit, and his little hat with the full and half moons that Wilbur </span>
  <em>
    <span>distinctly</span>
  </em>
  <span> remembers showing him how to create.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That hat was a little project between them, a little craft that Wilbur and his boy made after his mom left. </span>
  <em>
    <span>(He still wears it. Why does he still wear it?)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur can’t wrap his head around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I loved…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Especially considering the fact that he specifically didn’t side with Wilbur, his own </span>
  <em>
    <span>father</span>
  </em>
  <span>, in the election. First it was siding with his enemies, and then it was breaking off to create his own party, which, granted, hurt slightly less than seeing him on Alex or Schlatt’s side, but it was still a punch in the gut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fundy, who lost the election. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Miserably.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wilbur will never be able to deny the fact that when he saw Coconut2020 in dead last, he felt smug. Justified, even. Even though he knew at that point that he had lost to Schlatt </span>
  <em>
    <span>(I didn’t lose to Schlatt Schlatt </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>cheated</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> he’s a dirty filthy </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>-------</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> cheater he doesn’t deserve to stand up there he doesn’t deserve to talk to </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>my people</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>)</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he still felt a twisted sort of satisfaction in seeing his son fail that badly as soon as he broke away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fundy </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wilbur, is what that told him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I lost you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s what Wilbur thought. But that was shattered, shattered into billions of pieces once Wilbur and Tommy were exiled. He couldn’t stop thinking about how his son was doing while he was fleeing from L’Manburg. It wouldn’t leave his mind. He was so scared that Schlatt’s administration would leave him lost, flailing in the dark, because father dearest wasn’t there to prop him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he heard the news that Fundy was tearing the walls down, and his heart </span>
  <em>
    <span>broke</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard that Fundy had burned down L’Manburg’s flag, and it </span>
  <em>
    <span>shattered</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he couldn’t let the thought linger. Building a whole new country was hard work, and he was in the middle of renovations when he was in the call over his earpiece with that bastard Schlatt and Fundy.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fundy, what </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> your relationship with Mr. Soot?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur held his breath there for a few moments, his entire body freezing. He could feel the pre-emptive feeling of pride welling up inside of his chest, thinking that Fundy would declare that he was the son of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> leader of </span>
  <em>
    <span>L’</span>
  </em>
  <span>Manburg. He could also feel something else, something else in the back of his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“...I was a citizen of the old L’Manburg while Wilbur was in power, and I was there since the revolution. That is all.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The anger and rage and sadness that all exploded at once inside of Wilbur rendered him speechless for a solid minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hasn’t thought about Fundy since then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur’s eyes flick upwards, away from the campfire,  and he steps around the sign for the Prime Path, walking through the shabbier regions of the ravine. He kicks a stone through the tunnels, nearly losing it a few times but ultimately retrieving it  from every nook and cranny he got it lodged into, his hands shoved deep into pockets. If he didn’t keep them controlled, who knows what they would start doing?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing good, he’s sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, the rock drops into a small puddle, and he deems it unretrievable. He finally looks up to see where he is…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he sees Tommy. He knows it isn’t Tommy -- Tommy is far off, frolicking around the edges of Manburg with Tubbo. But he can almost clearly see him standing there -- it only happened about an hour ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy’s face stricken with fear, fear that Wilbur saw </span>
  <em>
    <span>easily</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What leader was bad at reading people? No, Tommy was afraid, Wilbur was sure of that, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> him, but maybe Tommy wasn’t afraid of what he thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur walks closer to Tommy and his heart starts to race. His eyes jump from place to place on the young boy’s face, blinking hard as he tries to analyze what could possibly be making him so terrified. He can see his mouth moving, but if there’s any sound to the illusion, he can’t hear it. Not over the roar of thoughts swirling around in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I loved…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That isn’t some deep-rooted fear of failure. It isn’t the sort of fear that people have about abstract things, it isn’t that complicated. No, Wilbur deduces that this is a natural, immediate fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The face of someone that’s afraid of something </span>
  <em>
    <span>(or someone)</span>
  </em>
  <span> right in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur stiffens before turning around slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I loved…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur looks himself in the eyes. Yelling at Tommy, yelling at his right hand  man, telling him that he will never, </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> be in a position of power, trying to tell him that L’Manburg could never be retrieved, all while Tommy looks on in silent fear, only speaking up to protest once or twice before immediately being shut down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur clenches his fists by his side, his head dropping to stare at the floor as his mind tries it’s hardest to wrap its head around this realization. He stands there, immobile, for a few seconds, a few minutes, maybe an hour, maybe a day. Because his mind can’t process anything. It keeps wrapping back around to one statement, something that’s just so unreal to him that he can barely make sense of the words put together.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Tommy was scared of </span>
  </em>
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>me</span>
    </em>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>.)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I lost you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur’s head suddenly snaps up, after weeks, months, eons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe, just maybe, Tommy being afraid of him wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Wilbur chuckles, dissolving into full-blown laughs after a few moments. Yes, why couldn’t he see it before? It’s exactly as Wilbur had said, Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t know what he’s doing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur needs to be there to </span>
  <em>
    <span>teach</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. So what if he kept cutting him off, why should Wilbur let him keep talking nonsense that would ultimately hurt him? So what if Tommy was afraid? Who isn’t afraid of what a teacher or a parent or an older brother could do to them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Tommy is on Wilbur’s side, then he thinks Wilbur should have been the leader. Wilbur is the leader of Pogtopia. Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be afraid of his leader. Because if he isn’t, he’ll never learn. He’ll never grow without Wilbur’s help, and he needs to understand that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re going to have a talk once the sixteen-year-old returns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur walks directly forwards, swinging his arm and cutting through the illusion of Tommy. As he moves, his pace becomes more frantic, and his arms squeeze around his figure. There’s nothing he can do right now -- it’s not even dark outside (he thinks -- it might be -- how long has he been down here?), so it’s not like he can start wiring the TNT. But that just leaves Wilbur with his thoughts, and each word that runs through his head is like a red-hot poker being skewered through his brain, thinking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span>, oh, how he would love to just do the things that he wants right now!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marburg would already be ash, and Wilbur would be dead. But isn’t that for the betterment of everyone, for him to be gone?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...not like there would be anyone left to grieve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head slowly rises from the ground, and he wipes his face -- he has no idea when (or why) he started crying, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Maybe -- maybe he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> go to Manburg. Right now. Set all of its forests aflame, all of the buildings, and try his damndest to murder Schlatt, to wring his neck between his hands as everyone watches, as Fundy tries to stop him to protect his </span>
  <em>
    <span>dear, sweet president</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as Tommy tries to stop him because he’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared, stupid little boy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Alex, and Luke, and George, and Tubbo and Eret and Sam and Niki and --</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>Niki</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur’s eyes readjust to the worse-lit section of the ravine, and as they shift focus, he suddenly sees the L’Manburgian flag, flowing in non-existent winds. He can feel the warm liquid running down his face, but he can’t control it, nor does he try. He knows who will be standing at the foot of that flag, he already knows, but he forces his sight down to match eyes with Niki.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smile seems to light up the dreary cave, and her eyes glisten in the light coming from cracks in the stone. Wilbur releases a choked laugh stirred with a sob, and his head falls as he hugs himself even tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I loved…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki was the only person Wilbur could </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> control.  And it terrified him. Oh, it scared him half out of his wits, but the more he tried to establish a way of being superior to her, the more he realized that he wasn’t at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki was just about the only person that he was willing to readily admit was better than him. And it isn’t a matter of ego, either. Everyone is dependent on him, but Niki can last on her own. Isn’t it obvious? How open she was about wanting to rebel after Schlatt kicked Wilbur and Tommy? She’s smart, funny, and independent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It scares him still, but he’s used to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I loved…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The sobs make Wilbur’s body shake as he stumbles closer to Niki, looking as bright as ever. A stark contrast to Wilbur, who seemed to have darkness buzzing around his head and filling up his mind. She looks concerned, almost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Concerned. For Wilbur. Not defiant. Not angry. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s worried for him, and it makes him smile through his tears. He’s never noticed -- well, that’s not true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d have to be blind to not notice how beautiful she looked when she smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur wants to break into a run, but it’s hard. For whatever reason, he drags along at snail’s pace to her. Perhaps he’s injured, or perhaps he knows that none of this is real, and the moment he steps closer to Niki, she might vanish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, standing in front of her, Wilbur notes how realistic she looks. As if he could reach out and touch her. And he does. His hand gently holds her cheek, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And the sudden relief that flows through him doesn’t allow him to consider the fact that her skin was ice cold, and hw his thumb seemed to just barely phase through the illusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no time to think as he tries to give her the largest hug he’s given anyone, and there’s all the time in the world as she dissipates into mist. The flag is gone, the light is gone, and Wilbur is alone once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands lift to just slightly tug at his hair in frustration, which quickly turns to him grabbing handfuls of it and yanking as he releases an exasperated, </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious</span>
  </em>
  <span> yell. His rage almost overwhelms him, making his entire body prickle with warmth, before it dissolves into something akin to grief and the most misery he’s ever felt in his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands fall from his hair as he hugs himself, rocking back and forth on the ground with his eyes wide open, trained on a spot on the ground as tears mercilessly fall from his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels so, so cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I lost you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And it hurts like hell.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'M STILL SCREAMING INCOHERENTLY ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED YESTERDAY Y'ALL DO NOT UNDERSTAND I NEED TO TALK TO SOMEONE ABOUT THIS.</p><p>I JUST HAD TO SHOW THAT I WATCHED THIS YESTERDAY SO THIS IS BAD AND RUSHED AND AWFUL AND I DIDN'T RE-READ IT TO PROOFREAD IT AT ALL BUT HERE I GUESS.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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